


Lolita

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-24
Updated: 2003-12-23
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:58:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7095304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dawn/Wesley, Dawn/Lana. In his arms, she was always Lolita. Slight crossover with Smallville (though, knowing the characters is not important to the story).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Youth Decay

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

**i. Youth Decay**

She was Dawnie in the morning; simply Dawn during the long summer afternoons. But in his arms, she was always _Lolita_.

In his mind, he knew it was wrong. She was young, just a teenager girl. Such innocence had shone in her eyes when he first saw her, along with a hint of everything only an adult eye could portray.

*

As he drove, he watched her from the corner of his eye as the chain of daisies around her head slipped to the side, sitting lopsided on her hair.

She was beautiful. Radiant, even. His strawberry girl.

Still, he drove. And he studied her.

Another stop, another city, another hotel, another fuck.

The more they drove, the more her seemingly perpetual youth decayed. The more she decayed, the more Wesley tried to bring her out of her shell. When they weren't fucking, she withdrew. From him. With everyone else? She was the normal flowery blossom she has always been.

But he knew better. He felt as if he was sitting next to the ghost a very small person he had just killed.

And in a way, he thought he had. She'd been fine, a daisy-fresh girl. Until him.

She was dead and decaying now and there was nothing he could do about it.

She was lost and fading from his world.


	2. Her Poison

**ii. Her Poison**

She was asleep in his arms; his strawberry girl, his Lolita.

No matter how much he hurt her, she never left him. Afterall, where would she go? She had no one except him.

He knew it would always be like this. He knew. No matter what.

*

One day, when he returned to their hotel room, she was there with her girl eyes that tend to hypnotise. Her lipstick was smeared, her hair was mussed, and sand covered her feet. The sheets of their bed were wildly spread about the room and it smelt of sex. Girl sex.

He could feel his eyes beginning to burn with tears that had not yet been spilt.

"Who is she?"

His voice was rough and he didn't recognise it as his own. She was pinned beneath him and she laughed as he was crying. She kissed him and he could taste another girl on her lips. Then everything was a blur and he felt drunk from the tears and bright red lipstick staining his skin. The poison that fell from her lips intoxicated his senses and his mind went blank.


	3. Briar Rose

**iii. Briar Rose**

He still felt drunk, but he neared the bed, where Dawn still lie sleeping, anyways.

She looked like a brunette version of a dying Briar Rose. Pale (like darkness) with her hair splayed around her body.

'Fragile' was the only word that came to mind as he stared at her, a slight crazed look in his eyes. But then again, when he was drunk, he never could think of many words.

He felt cheated, he felt deceived. Most of all, he felt love. He loved her and she goes off and fucks a _girl_. It was infuriating, yet his love for her never paled.


	4. Vivica and Her Blackbird

**iv. Vivica and Her Blackbird**

"Vivica," the blackbird in front of her whispered. "...so rotten and so beautiful...'

She let the words roll off her like raindrops and revelled in the way the older girl knew how to use her tongue. So shy, yet so bold.

Wesley would hate to see this. Knowing and see were two entirely seperate things. It would kill him to _see_ this.

*

After sex, no matter how good it had been, Dawn always cried against her skin and Lana comforted her as best she could.

But it was never enough.

Never enough.

 

(to be continued...)


End file.
